


auror, warden, and screw

by Medie



Category: Dresden Files - Butcher, Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-22
Updated: 2010-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Dresden has a little problem with authority. It keeps showing up with great legs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	auror, warden, and screw

**Author's Note:**

> written for [](http://debc.livejournal.com/profile)[**debc**](http://debc.livejournal.com/)'s birthday. Thanks to [](http://havocthecat.livejournal.com/profile)[**havocthecat**](http://havocthecat.livejournal.com/) for serving as my Harry (Dresden) consultant. Happy Birthday Debbie! This? Well, this came from me reading a book as quickly as possible and consulting the crack!muse.

&gt;  
*

"You know, Dresden, you can be a real pain in the ass."

Ah, the familiar dulcet tones of the long arm of the wizarding law. I'd be insulted if not for the fact Meredith considered me somewhat less interesting than a house elf. Likely why I'd never gotten around to owning one. She'd insist on conducting all business with him and I'd miss out on a chance to admire her not-unimpressive physique. "And you, Merry, are as lovely as ever."

She made a face at me. Wisely, I refrained from pointing out it was what some would consider adorable. I know for a fact that Ms. Cantwell is particularly skilled at transfiguration and, while it would be highly inappropriate for a Department Auror, I'd likely spend the foreseeable future as my very own teacup.

I hummed a few bars of "I'm a little teacup" and cleared my throat when she shot a suspicious look my way. Trying for innocent would be somewhat futile. Dear Merry had a habit of reminding me of someone's second grade schoolmarm and as such? Never fooled by false innocence.

Besides, it was me. One thing I'd never quite gotten a handle on is innocence, at least my own.

"Other than gifting me with your charming presence," I gestured her into the room and grinned when she made another face at its furnishings, "is there anything I can help you with this fine day?"

"Other than quit practicing, open up a thrift store somewhere, and generally forget I ever existed?" She quirked a smile at me. I suspected somewhere on her person there was a Harry-like voodoo doll just waiting for a pin.

I didn't want to think about where said pin will be poked.

I nodded. "Yes, aside from that."

She shrugged and bent to scratch Mister behind the ears. The little traitor. "Then no, that would largely be it."

"Courtesy call then is it?" I commented, shuffling into the kitchen in search of a coke. "Oh, no that can't be it. You and I have never been about courtesy. You never call, you never send me flowers, frankly Merry darling, I'm beginning to think you don't like me."

"And I can't imagine why that is," Meredith returned, catching the can I tossed her way. "Other than my obvious, seething contempt."

"Oh come now," I grinned, "that's just your repressed attraction sneaking through. Really Merry, ours is a love that cannot be denied."

"Except for the part where I am happily denying it," she rolled her eyes. "Look, Dresden, I know you and the White Council love to play...well, whatever the fuck it is that you're playing can you tone it down a little?"

"Feeling a little overworked with all your memory wiping?" I couldn't resist jibing. The various departments and ministries of magics' insistence on trying to keep the supernatural from the 'muggle' population (a word, by the way, I refused to use on pure obstinence alone) has long been among their most ridiculous of policies. "Did I go and cause another international incident again?" I had a tendency to cause those at least a couple times a week. I considered it my civic duty really, someone had to make sure the civil servants of both worlds earned their keep.

Really. As if the little darlings needed anyone's help protecting their delicate sensibilities. Most of them could (and would) happily explain away the apocalypse if given half a chance at it.

Meredith pursed her lips and glared at me. Not precisely the move I would have chosen if I were in her place. Directing my attention to one of the better parts of her anatomy (not that the rest was particularly lacking) wasn't the best way to keep my mind on conversation.

The rest of my body certainly wasn't interested in chitchat.

"No, you didn't cause an international incident," she sighed.

"Ah well," I snapped my fingers, "the day's young and it's St. Paddy's day, maybe I'll get lucky." Waggling my brows just made her scowl harder.

Her nose crinkled up when she scowled and made it damned difficult to buy the 'professional dark wizard hunter' shtick she was working. Not that I could forget it for a second, I wasn't crazy enough to try. The British Ministry's Aurors were world renowned after that pesky 'dark lord' mess so they were in high demand and they were in demand for a reason.

And yet this one kept finding her way to my door. In some ways, I supposed I found it flattering in a faintly annoying, must I suffer this indignity, sort of way.

"And maybe I'll hex you back into the stone age if you try," she countered, aggravation thickening her accent. "I will, you know."

"Mmm," I smirked. "Me Og, you -- "

I supposed getting a can of coke whipped at my head was a damn sight better than the killing curse. At least she transfigured it into a rat at the last second.

Mister appreciated the gesture even if I didn't.

"Now that we've got the pleasantries out of the way," I quipped. "How about you tell me why you're really here?"

Meredith squinted at me for a moment and I had a flash of running for my furry little life, Mister hot on my four heels. I would not, for a second, put it past the woman to try it. Just to teach me a lesson. Civil servants, even the wizarding sort, could tend toward the worst sort of evil when they wanted to. It was the crappy pension plan that eventually did them in, I figured.

"The British Minister, the Canadian Minister, and the Secretary of Magic are having a little get together in town this week," she explained, reluctance seeping into every word.

"Stay the fuck out of the way?" I supplied helpfully.

"If you're partial to your ass you will," she agreed. "You're none too popular in our circles and you know it."

"Can't imagine why," I said dryly.

"They have a list," Meredith smiled. Contempt really was a good look on her. "It's Alphabeticized and cross-referenced. Complete with pop up diagrams."

"I'd like to see that." I commented with a little grin.

"No you wouldn't," she promised.

She was right, I really didn't. British wizarding justice summoned up images of Dementors and the certain knowledge that even if they were no longer employed, whatever the Ministry had followed up with was probably worse. "Well, you know, anything comes up, feel free to call." I offered, opening another can of coke. "I've got bills, you've got cash, it's a perfect fit."

So was something else but after the transfigured rat? I wasn't taking any chances.

Meredith laughed. "I think we've got it covered."

"Famous last words," I quipped.

She flipped me off. I chuckled and nodded. "You're learning, Merry. We'll make an uncouth colonial out of you yet."

Meredith gave me a look, one of those schoolmarm specials. "The day you manage that is the day I make a real Warden out of you." It took talent to make one word sound that incredulous but my Merry was a talented girl if nothing else. "And let's face it, you'd be the worst Warden on the continent."

"You wound me, Merry," I pressed a hand to my chest and leaned forward just a little, "to think I couldn't be inspired by your shining example?"

She snorted. "Fuck you."

The wards were loose enough to allow her to apparate out and I waited until she was gone to murmur, "Oh, I wish."


End file.
